Saturday, December 29, 2012

Mystery of the Miracle Frisbee

This is a story that happened on New Year's Eve of 2011. It was originally published in January of 2012. I'm repeating it for this New Year because it's true, possibly inspirational, and I think you'll find it amazing.

The
story below is absolutely true. My family and I were there and
experienced this first-hand. It is not the type of material you find in
my typical blog entry. However, it is too good not to share. Please
post your thoughts at the bottom of this page.Share this with anyone you think might enjoy it or get caught up in the mystery.

What
do you call it when something beyond understanding occurs -- something
that defies all odds? Is it a paranormal event? A coincidence of
unimaginable proportions? Magic? Or is it a miracle? And what if you
can prove to yourself and others that it really happened because you
were there and you took photographs! This incident concerns nothing
more elaborate than a Frisbee, but it is mystifying, nevertheless.

My
wife’s family is from Guatemala. My wife, our two children, and I live
in Illinois and sometimes visit her family in Central America over the
holidays. This year, we, along with most of my wife’s large family,
spent the week after Christmas at my sister-in-law’s beach house on the
Pacific coast of Guatemala.

My daughter practicing her gymnastics on the black sand beach.

Every
day, my wife’s younger brother, Gonzalo, would run out to the volcanic
black sand with his Frisbee and toss it along the beach or over the
waves and let the wind return it to him. Two days before New Year’s, as
my children and some of the cousins played on the beach, I took my
camera and photographed him exercising with the white disc.

My brother-in-law, Gonzalo, running on the beach with his Frisbee. Notice the design of the Frisbee on the inset.

Later
in the evening, my wife, Maria, and I, Gonzalo, his wife, Marta
Yolanda, and the children went down to the beach to catch the sunset.
The children built a castle in the sand. Maria, Marta Yolanda, and I
stood and watched the progress of the castle building activities, while
Gonzalo launched his Frisbee toward the waves. I took several
photographs. Several times, the Frisbee landed on the water and was
returned in the waves. Everyone was having a great time, until my
brother-in-law made a bad toss. He groaned as the Frisbee went into the
waves and was not immediately returned on the surf.

The children made a sand castle, while my brother-in-law (far right) played with his Frisbee.

“It’s gone,” he said.

“Give it a minute, and maybe the waves will bring it back,” I suggested.

“No, Tom, I don’t think it’s coming back,” he sighed, as we all peered into the dark waves, hoping that he might be wrong.

After another half minute, I pointed into the surf as a white object came into view.
“There
it is,” I yelled. The Frisbee washed directly to my wife’s feet and
hit her on the shins. She walked over and handed it to her brother.

He took the disc happily, but after only a moment said, “This isn’t my Frisbee.”

We all looked at him.

“My Frisbee was red on top. This one’s black.”

“That has to be your Frisbee,” I said.

“Maybe it had a sticker on it that came off in the water,” my wife suggested.

“No,” Gonzalo insisted. “Mine was a pure white. This is pearl colored.”

“That
has to be your Frisbee,” I said. “If it’s not, whose is it? And how
is it possible that it washed up at our feet just as we were looking for
a Frisbee? How many times have you ever had a Frisbee wash up at your
feet, let alone when you’re looking for one?”

“Never,” he answered.

“And how many times have you ever just found a Frisbee on the beach?”

“Never.”

“Then how is it possible that this isn’t your Frisbee?

“I
don’t know,” he answered. “It just doesn’t look like my Frisbee.” It
was obvious that my logic had convinced him to give up his argument.

We watched another dramatic Pacific sunset, and then returned to the house to have dinner and rest for New Year’s Eve.

It
wasn’t until the next morning when I was looking at some of my photos
on the LCD screen of my camera that I realized I had shots from before
the Frisbee was lost. I quickly found the photos and zoomed in on one
where the design on the Frisbee was plainly visible.

There
was no doubt. It was not the same Frisbee. The photographs plainly
show a Frisbee with a very different graphic design. If not for the
photographs, we all would have given up on the notion that one disc had
been thrown into the ocean and a different disc returned. It was just
too difficult to believe. But that’s exactly what happened: one
Frisbee was thrown into the ocean, only to be replaced by a different
one a moment later.

The Frisbee that returned in the waves (center) and the Frisbee that was thrown into the ocean (inset).

I
have no explanation. Something very strange happened. I don’t know
how or why. Maybe it was nature’s way of assuring us that miracles can
and do happen. If something with odds this impossible can take place,
it can happen again. And maybe next time, the miracle will be something
that will change someone’s life for the better. Maybe next time we’ll
believe the impossible really can happen. It’s already happened once.
It can happen again.

About Me

Tom Bell is a fine art photographer, residing in Makanda, Illinois. A Fulbright Scholar and emeritus College administrator, he is now a full-time photographer. He won the 2009 Versace Award for Photographic Excellence, in addition to many other international, national, and regional awards. View his website at www.tombellart.com.